


Am I A Cool Kid, Now? (Cool Patrol!Mark Fischbach X Reader)

by iamRemedy



Category: markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkward Tension, Blushing, Cool Patrol!Markiplier, Cool patrol, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Jack is 16, Jack is such a nerd, Let's dive right in, Mark has a secret, Mark has the most beautiful eyes in the world, Mark is 17, Mark is probably jealous, Parties, Reader is a Goody-Two-Shoes, Shyness, Socially Awkward Teenagers, Starting Over, Teenager Problems, There's a storm a-brewing, awkward moments, but not for long hehehe, changing, cool kids, nerdy kids, reader is 15
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-03-08 04:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13450638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamRemedy/pseuds/iamRemedy
Summary: (Your Name) is the most unpopular girl in the school, and she's okay with that. Until she meets Mark, the leader of the Cool Patrol. All of a sudden, she wants people to notice her. She wants people to want to hang out with her. So she asks him to change her into a cool kid, but maybe she ends up changing him instead.





	1. Some Sort of a Prologue

She never liked being noticed.

 

Coming from the most unpopular girl at school, it didn’t really make sense. She didn’t many friends, but she didn’t want any. The one thing she wanted, to remain unseen, was given to her. No one ever gave her a second glance, she was always picked last in P.E., and the teachers rarely remembered her name. To some, it sounds like a nightmare. But, to her, it was all she could ever ask for.

 

Which is why it seemed fitting that she nearly had a meltdown when she was finally noticed by the  _entire_ high school, freshmen and teachers seniors alike.

 

She had just been strolling the hallways, a normal thing that she did every day, when one of the jocks backed into her while trying to catch a football and knocked her onto the floor. She landed with a loud, painful  _SMACK!_ and everyone went silent. At first, they were in awe. They all looked at her, and no one made a single sound. Then that one dumb bully grinned a snarky grin and pointed at her, letting out the most obnoxious, contagious-like-a-virus laugh. And everyone followed in suit.

 

Now, her cheeks burned with evident embarrassment as she hurried to jump back up and run for the exit, not even worried about the backpack she’d left behind in the hallway. Their laughter, all of their laughter, rang through her skull, provoking waterfalls of tears that fell from her vibrant (Eye Color) eyes. Finally out of the school, she collapsed on the sidewalk, scraping her knees. But, she didn’t care. She was just glad to be away from that mess.

 

She buried her face in her knees, curled up to her chest, and silently cried. The school day was almost over, so it was unlikely any teachers knew she had left. She just wanted to be alone. Oh, but of course- why would fate allow that?

 

“Hey!” a deep voice called out as its owner ran out of the building, towards her.

 

She looked up, quickly drying her tears in order to look at least somewhat presentable, and glanced at the person running into her direction. Her heart stopped. It was  _him_. It was the leader of the Cool Patrol. Mark Fischbach, in the flesh.

 

He stopped by her side, barely needing to stop to catch his breath. “You left your bag,” he said coolly, holding up the aforementioned object.

 

The female stood, her cheeks burning once more, and took the bag from him. “Um . . . thanks,” she murmured, tucking a strand of hait behind her ear.

 

“What’s your name, by the way?” Mark asked.

 

She shrugged limply, her lips pursed. “(Your Name),” she said under her breath. “Um, uh . . . w-what do you want?”

 

Mark’s eyebrows shot up above his black aviators. “Well, I can leave if you want,” he said, turning to go away from her.

 

(Your Name) was quick to grab him by the sleeve of his leather jacket, and she exclaimed, “NO!” then drew back with a faint blush on her cheeks. “I-I mean . . .” She looked down, avoiding his gaze.

 

Mark let out a laugh- a deep, rumbling one that (Your Name) could practically feel in her bones. “My name’s Mark,” he said. Of course, (Your Name) already knew this, but she didn’t want to seem . . . creepy, mayhaps? Pretty much the entire school knew who Mark Fischbach was. As mentioned before, he was leader of the Cool Patrol, which consisted of himself, Dan Avidan, Matt Watson, and Ryan Magee. He’d go around and help the nerdiest of kids become . . . well, cooler. That was his job, and everyone loved him for it. So, it made sense that he was here now. He wanted to help the shy girl. What else was new?

 

“Right,” (Your Name) responded, her gaze landing on Mark’s dyed, firey hair. “I, uh, like your hair.” _(Mental facepalm.) Wake me up inside._

 

“Thanks, kid,” Mark chuckled with a slight nod. “See you around, eh?”

 

“Y-Yeah.”

 

(Your Name) watched him leave, his biker-gloved hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans, the sound of his combat boots hitting the concrete with each step he took away from her. She watched until he was back inside, and she let out a sigh.

 

Then the principal came out.

 

“(Your Name)!” he shouted, anger flashing in his eyes as he jogged towards her.Her face fell. “Aw, dang.”

\-----

 


	2. How to be Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward things happen.

“Now, you very well know it’s against the rules to leave the building before you’re dismissed, unless you’re being picked up by a parent,” Mr. Hedd said sternly while (Your Name) sat across from him, her hands folded in her lap.

 

“Y-Yes, I do, sir,” (Your Name) bumbled, gazing up at him.  _Why do adults do that all the time? They always prop up their seats and make you sit in the smaller ones to make them seem more intimidating. Yeah, it works, but they don’t have to do it. I mean--_

 

“(Your Name)?”

 

(Your Name) jumped. Great. He had been talking, and she’d gotten lost in her own thoughts. Now was not the time, but of course her overactive mind thought otherwise. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “C-Could you repeat that, please?”

 

“I said you’re free to go,” Mr. Hedd sighed.

 

(Your Name)’s face lit up. “Wait, r-really?”

 

“Yes,” Mr. Hedd said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve never caused me any trouble before, so I’m just going to let you off with a warning.”

 

“Oh! Uh, th-thank you!”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Now run along before you miss your bus.”

 

“Thank you!” (Your Name) repeated herself, running out the door.

 

“Wow, she’s a lively one,” a female commented as she walked in after (Your Name). She faced the principal. “Richard Hedd, right?”

 

Mr. Hedd smiled, and he gestured for her to have a seat. “Please, just call me Dick.”

 

\-----

 

“Oh, crap, that was terrifying,” (Your Name) said to herself, collapsing into her seat on the bus with a sharp exhale of air. “I can’t believe I survived that . . .”

 

“Oh. Hey, kid,” said a voice from the seat beside her.

 

(Your Name) jumped. Were they talking to her? She quickly looked around to see if anyone else was going to reply. No one did, so she decided to face the person who’d spoken. It was Mark again.

 

(Your Name)’s cheeks lit up like the Fourth of July. “H-Hi,” she stuttered. “H-How’re . . . How-- How . . .”

 

Mark chuckled, pushing up his aviators. “I didn’t know you rode this bus,” he said.

 

“N-Neither d-did I,” (Your Name) stammered. “B-But about you! Heh . . .”

 

Mark gave a lax smile, letting his arm loosely rest against the seat in front of him. “I just moved recently,” he said.

 

(Your Name) straightened her posture, her interest piqued. “O-Oh, yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” he said. “My mom kicked me out. I figured it was about time I got my own place anyways.”

 

“Oh, I . . . I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

Mark gazed out the window. “Eh, it’s no big deal,” he replied dismissively. “We just didn’t agree over some things.”

 

“Heh, right,” (Your Name) said, her voice fading. She was just getting used to talking to another human being, and she already made it awkward. She coughed into her fist, averting her gaze to look out the window, much like Mark had been doing.

 

Mark started up another conversation. Which was easy, since he wasn’t as socially awkward as (Your Name) was. “So, how long have you been living in Cincinnati?” he asked.

 

“My whole life,” (Your Name) replied, looking down at her knees. “I-I was born in (birthplace), though.”

 

“Ah, interesting,” Mark hummed. “Tell me about yourself.”

 

(Your Name) looked up at him, wringing her wrists nervously. “H-Huh?”

 

“Tell me about yourself,” Mark said again, his smile melting into a more genuine one. “I’d like to get to know you, and this is the way people do that. But, of course, a cool chick like you would know  _that_.”

 

The blush on (Your Name)’s face spread like wildfire, ending at the very tips of her ears. “A-Ah, um . . .” She looked down again, biting her low lip with an anxious feeling in her chest. “W-Well, my full name is (First Name) (Middle Name{if you have one}) (Last Name). Um . . . my favorite color is (Favorite Color), uh . . .” (Your Name) froze, her eyes clamping shut as the heat became unbearable. “Ugh, I feel like I’m gonna suffocate . . .”

 

Mark sat up a bit straighter, his hand raised slightly in her direction. “Are you okay?”

 

As soon as the bus stopped, (Your Name) stood up. “U-Uh, I-I actually g-get off here,” she lied. Of course she didn’t get off at this stop, but she really needed some air. Actually, she just needed to get away from Mark and his . . . his  _ways_.

 

She quickly grabbed her bag from her seat and made a move to walk away, but Mark caught her by the wrist. “Hey, wait--” And that was when the bus lurched forward, sending (Your Name) flying into Mark, knocking the both of them onto the floor.

 

Dazed and confused, (Your Name) lifted her head slightly, coming face to face with Mark’s . . . well, face. His aviators had fallen down to just below his scruffy chin, and he stared back at (Your Name) with wide, chestnut-brown eyes.

 

She was mesmerized. No one had ever seen his eyes, yet there she was, gazing right into them. His eyes were beautiful, and they made her heart skip a beat. No, two. Wait a minute-- Nope, there it is.

 

She unintentionally relished this moment, whether she realized it or not. The bus was still moving, and no one seemed to notice what was going on. They were chatting with one another, texting, watching YouTube and Vine, checking their Instagram and Snapchat-- things like that. Even if the bus driver did notice, he didn’t care.

 

But then she realized what everyone wasn’t noticing. She was on top of Mark Fischbach, the most popular guy in probably the entire world, and she wasn’t making a move to apologize nor get off.

 

Well, at least, not until now.

 

She quickly moved to climb off, flustered, but Mark’s hands shot up, almost like an instinct, and grabbed her by the waist. And he then proceeded to tug her back down. Hard. Right down onto his--

 

(Your Name)’s face caught fire as Mark let out a soft moan. His eyes clamped shut, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek.

 

Still, no one noticed.

 

“You . . . You missed your stop,” Mark huffed.

 

“Uh, y-yeah. I-I-I’ll get him t-to let me off h-here,” (Your Name) stammered, quickly stumbling to her feet as the bus slowed to a stop once more. She thought about helping Mark up, but decided against it when he did so on his own. She watched for a moment as he sat down at his seat again, fixing his aviators, squirming around a bit, as if he were uncomfortable in his own pants. He then met her gaze, and she quickly turned, grabbed her bag, and high-tailed it off the bus.

 

It took her a whole hour to get home.

 

\-----


	3. Red and Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Struggling with emotions and meeting someone new.

_“aaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGG!!!”_ (Your Name) screamed into her pillow.  _“WHAT THE FRIIIIIIIIIIIICK!!”_  Her cheeks still burned from that moment, and she couldn’t forget the look on his face when--

 

She screamed again as the image returned, louder this time, so thankful for her trusty ‘Screaming’ pillow. It successfully muffled her sounds of anguish, and she could only be happy for that reason.  _“WHAT DID I DOOOOOOO!!! I’M SUCH A FLIPPING MOROOOOOON!!”_  
 

Three knocks sounded at her bedroom door, and her head instantly snapped up. “Yessum?” she asked.

 

“Sweetie? (Nickname), are you okay?” It was her mom. And she was using her ‘Mom Voice’, the one she used when something was wrong. “Dinner’s ready. You can come out when you want, and maybe we can talk about it, okay?”

 

“Okay, Ma,” (Your Name) sighed, rolling out of bed. She landed on the hardwood floor with a  _thump!_ , letting out a low groan as she slunk to her feet. She lumbered over to her bedroom door and lazily swung it open, then she skulked down the stairs, a dismal look on her face.

 

“Oh, there you are,” her mom spoke as (Your Name) entered the kitchen and plopped down on a stool at the counter. “Soup’s on the stove. Would you like me to get you some milk?”

 

(Your Name) nodded sadly.

 

“All right, sweetie,” her mom said kindly, placing a tender kiss on the teen’s forehead as she passed, and made her way over to the fridge. After a moment, she placed a bowl of soup and a glass of milk down on the counter, taking a seat beside (Your Name) with her own. “Do you wanna talk about it yet?”

 

(Your Name) sighed into her glass as she chugged down her milk. She set it down on the counter, and her mother poured her some more. “Mom,” (Your Name) glumly started, “someone talked to me today.”

 

Her mother’s face lit up, and a big smile spread across it. “Honey, that’s great!”

 

“But I might of flubbed it,” (Your Name) finished.

 

“Oh . . . how so?”

 

“I . . . something really embarrassing happened,” (Your Name) mumbled, blowing on her soup to try and hide her worsening blush. “And he might hate me forever now.”

 

Some sort of glint shone in her mother’s eyes. “Oh, it’s a boy?”

 

“I-It’s not like that, though,” (Your Name) stammered nervously. “H-He’s just a really cool guy. A-And he’s the first person to talk to me in a while, a-and I’m kind of mad at myself for-- for messing it up so badly.” She rested her head against the counter with an audible groan. “Ugh, he probably thinks I’m some sort of creep now. UGH.”

 

“Hey, hey. I’m sure you’re making it seem worse than it actually is,” her mother assured her, rubbing her back soothingly. “He’s probably a rational guy, and everything will be fine when you apologize to him tomorrow.”

 

“If.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“ _If_ I apologize to him tomorrow,” (Your Name) said. “I doubt I’ll even be able to look at him ever again.”

 

“Aw, don’t say that.” She rubbed her back some more, and it actually kind of calmed her down. “You’ll be fine.”

 

(Your Name) took in a deep breath of air then let it out. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” she stated confidently with a smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

 

“You bet, (Nickname),” her mother said, mirroring her smile. “Now, eat your soup before it gets cold, and we’ll have a movie night before you go to bed.”

 

(Your Name) grinned, shoving some soup into her mouth. When she swallowed, she said, “Sounds cool.”  

 

(Your Name) loved her mom. How could she not? She was her mother, after all. She’d birthed her, and being an only child had its perks. She supposed it was easier that way. She’d never really wanted a little brother or sister, but she’d be fine if her mother had decided to have another baby. But she never did.

 

Her dad had left when she was only one year old. Her parents had just stopped loving each other after a while, but (Your Name) sometimes thought that maybe the divorce was her fault, though her mother would always tell her otherwise. Her mom never remarried, or dated anyone, for some reason. (Your Name) wasn’t against it; it was just the two of them, The Two-Girl Crew. She was okay with that, because they always had good times together, just the two of them.

 

“Great,” her mother replied, moving to eat her own food. “(Your Name)?”

 

“Yeah, Mom?”

 

“I promise that things are going to get better. Just you wait.”

  
 

\-----

 

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Be--! SLAM!_

 

The most annoying sound in the world--  _A.K.A. (Your Name)’s alarm clock_  --finally stopped when she punched it off of the nightstand. (Your Name) groggily sat up and stretched her limbs to get her blood flowing, rolling out her shoulders as she placed her feet on the cold floor and stood up. She got a headrush, and had to sit back down to keep from fainting, but when the haze went away she finally strolled over her closet to pick out an outfit for the day. Rubbing her eyes with a yawn, she looked through her options.

 

“What do I want . . .?” she mumbled to herself. After a few moments, she finally decided on a pair of dark-blue stretch pants, a Rick and Morty shirt, and her everyday sneakers with mismatched socks. She then changed into the clothes before leaving her room, going down the stairs, and sliding into her kitchen.

 

“Oh. Good morning,” her mom greeted tiredly as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “Want some?”

 

(Your Name)’s eyebrows shot up. “But you always tell me that it’ll stunt my growth.”

 

“Eh, you’re fifteen now,” her mom mumbled, grabbing another mog from out of the cabinet. “Besides, it’s just a myth.”

 

“It is?”

 

“Probably.”

 

(Your Name) let out a small laugh. She always liked her morning conversations with her mom, because the latter would say some pretty funny stuff when she was without her coffee.

 

“Thanks,” (Your Name) said when her mom handed her a cup of joe. She took a sip, almost instantly feeling energized by the heat. “Mmm, that’s good. What flavor?”

 

“(Favorite Coffee Flavor) . . .”

 

“Mmm, nice.” (Your Name) placed her mug on the counter, giving her mom a quick hug. “Can you finish it for me? I need to get outside so I don’t miss the bus.”

 

“Hm, yeah. Grab a poptart,” her mom replied as she took a sip of her own fuel.

 

“‘Kay!” (Your Name) exclaimed, grabbing the item and her bag before running out the door.

 

She skid to a stop at the end of the driveway, unwrapping the foil from around her breakfast. She took a bite from her breakfast, watching several cars whisk by. It was peaceful.

 

The bus pulled up as soon as she finished eating. As she climbed in, she placed her trash in the little garbage can at the front, uttering a small “morning” to the driver, who responded with the same word. A smile gracing her lips, she made her way to the very back, sitting in the same seat she’d had for the past four years. She set her bag on her lap and let out a happy sigh, closing her eyes. The sound of all the other students talking quietly with one another was oddly satisfying to her eardrums.

 

Then the bus stopped again, and every girl-- save for (Your Name) --let out high-pitched squeals and  _OMG_ s and  _I love you_ s. (Your Name) tried not to let it bother her, keeping her eyes closed. But she almost jumped out the window when one girl screamed, “ _MAAARK!_ ”

 

(Your Name)’s eyes snapped open as she saw who everyone was fangirling over, and who was strolling down the isle, slowly and painfully approaching her. It was her demise. Her downfall. The end of days.

 

It was Mark Fischbach.

 

She’d almost forgotten. How could she have managed that? It seemed Girl Time with her mom had worked too well. Now, there she was, unprepared for whatever may happen next.

 

She kept her gaze attached to  the seat in front of her as he sat in the one to her left. All the blood in her itty bitty body rushed to her face and ears. She felt light-headed. Her hands were clammy.  _Just . . . don’t make eye contact,_  she told herself, to which her body responded by instantly looking at him.

 

Mark just-so-happened to look at her at the same time, and she quickly looked away again.

 

Her heart pounded painfully against her ribcage.  _DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I JUST INSTRUCTED YOU TO DO?!_

 

This was going to be a long ride . . . .

 

\-----

 

As soon as the bus stopped outside of the high school (and she was given the go-ahead), (Your Name) ran off to avoid having to face Mark just yet. Falling into pace and blending in with her fellow classmates, she finally calmed down.

 

She looked around slightly, feeling small. Everyone was so much taller than her, and it kind of freaked her out. She tried not to let it bother her, however, as she entered the complex.

 

“Well, what are ya gonna do about it, ya Irish punk?!”

 

(Your Name) jumped from the intensity of the person’s voice, unintentionally causing a traffic jam. Some people muttered curses at her, and others just moved past her like she was invisible. She wasn’t bothered by the mean words, though. She turned to face whoever had just spoken, and she saw two  _really_ big Seniors pushing a kid with green hair around.

 

“Uh, n-nothing,” the kid squeaked, backing into a locker. One of the Seniors roughly shoved him, and he let out a yelp.

 

“HEY!” (Your Name) yelled angrily, her blood boiling. Her eyes widened.  _Well, that’s new._

 

The two Seniors and the green-haired boy faced her with curiousity. One of the older kids then narrowed his eyes. “What do you want, pipsqueak?”

 

“Uh, l-leave him alone,” (Your Name) said, her voice smaller than it had been just seconds ago.

 

“What, is he your boyfriend, or something?”

 

(Your Name) gulped, “Y-Yes.”

 

The Senior’s eyes widened. “Oh.” He grabbed his friend by the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him along as he walked away. “C’mon, she’s a girl anyways . . .”

 

“I can’t believe that kid has a girlfriend, and you don’t,” his friend commented.

 

“Shut up, Tony!”

 

The green-haired boy faced (Your Name) with relief and approached her. “Thanks for . . . that,” he said. He had an Irish accent. “You didn’t have to lie and say we’re . . . dating, though.”

 

“I-It’s all I could think to do,” (Your Name) mumbled sheepishly. She was getting somewhat better at this whole ‘talking to people’ thing, and it’d only been one day. She was proud of herself.

 

“Well, I appreciate it.” The boy held out his hand for a shake. “My name’s Sean, by the way. My family calls me Jack, though.”

 

(Your Name) shyly shook his hand. “I’m (Your Name),” she said before the gesture ended. “Why do they call you Jack?”

 

“Well . . . in Ireland, which is where I’m from, John is another name for someone named Sean, and Jack is another name for someone named John,” Sean explained. “Hence the nickname.”

 

“Oh,” (Your Name) said. “Well, you can call me . . . (Nickname). Th-That’s what my mom calls me, s-so . . .”

 

Sean laughed, “Okay, (Nickname)!” He looked off into the distance at something, then back at her. “By the way . . . did ye happen to see a backpack hanging from the flagpole on yer way in?”

 

(Your Name) furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Uh, I-I don’t think . . .”

 

“Well, that sucks,” Sean said, looking down at his feet. Instantly, he became cheerful again, and it startled (Your Name). “Oh well! I’ll see ye around, new friend!” he beamed as he ran off. “Keep helpin’ people!”

 

(Your Name) smiled.  _That went better than human situations normally do for me,_ she thought.  _And . . . it seems I made a new friend._

 

“YES!” she exclaimed out loud. A few people stopped what they were doing to stare at her incredulously, and her cheeks heated up from embarrassment. “Uh, e-er, d-don’t mind me,” she bumbled. “Ehehe.” As people continued on with whatever they had been doing, a certain fire-haired male caught her eye. She couldn’t tell if he had glanced at her, but it seemed like he had.

 

She sighed.  _Self-doubt, welcome back for Round Two . . ._

 

\-----


	4. Starting Over

Classes were a bit of a drag.

 

It’s not that (Your Name) didn’t like school. She did, but she couldn’t really focus with her mind racing every which way. She’d think about the answers to questions, but then her mind would slip to her new friend Sean, the she’d be mentally freaking out over the situation with Mark. Frankly, she was a bit stressed out that day.

 

(Your Name) sighed, running a hand through her hair as she gazed down at her test. She squinted. What class was she even in in? She quickly looked up and saw her Honors English teacher before she averted her attention back to the exam. How many questions were there? She mentally groaned as she flipped through the packet and discovered she had literally one hundred questions about _Romeo & Juliet _to answer. She had almost half an hour left, and twenty questions done. At least she was getting _somewhere_.

 

_Creeeeak!_

 

A few students’ heads snapped up at the sound of the door opening. (Your Name) looked at the door, and her heart skipped a beat. “What the heck,” she muttered. The one time she needs to avoid someone, he just keeps showing up everywhere she goes.

 

“Mr. Fischbach, as you can see, we are in the middle of a very important test,” Mr. Black said. “What is it that you need?”

 

“Danny left his notebook in his desk again,” Mark explained, pushing up his aviators. (Your Name) spent a good moment wondering why teachers never told him to take them off, but was brought back to reality when the teacher said something to Mark, and then he was suddenly standing in front of her while her classmates got back to work. “Do you see a notebook in there?” Mark asked her.

 

All the blood rushed to her face and ears. When she looked up at him, she could see he was avoiding her gaze. She felt a pang in her heart; it stung. “Uh, y-yeah. H-Here,” she stammered, grabbing a green notebook from out of her desk and shakily handing it to him.

 

Mark said nothing else to her before running out of the room.

 

(Your Name) let out a low groan, resting her head on her cool desk, in hopes of getting rid of the heat.

 

“(Your Name)? Are you okay?” Mr. Black asked.

 

“C-Can I go to the nurse . . .?” (Your Name) mumbled, unfocused. “I-I feel like I’m gonna throw up . . .”

 

The entire class let out different variations of _ew_ s, and Mr. Black sighed, “Yes, go. Hurry up. Don’t get your mess all over the floor, okay?”

 

“Th-Thank you,” (Your Name) stuttered, staggering to her feet and out the door. She roamed the halls for a moment, trying to remember where the nurse’s office was. About three minutes into her search, she ran into a certain green-haired Irishman.

 

“(Nickname)! Hey!” Sean beamed, looking up from the water fountain. “What are ye up to?”

 

“L-Looking for the nurse,” (Your Name) replied, holding her head. “I feel like crap.”

 

Sean’s smile dropped like a sour note. “Oh. Well, I hope ye feel better,” he said, placing a hand on her arm. “It’s down the hall an’ to the left.”

 

“Okay. Thanks, Sean,” (Your Name) said, smiling weakly before she started walking again.

 

“Oh, wait!”

 

(Your Name) turned around as he ran up to her again. “What’s up?”

 

“Can I have yer number, in case ye go home?” Sean asked. “I wanted to message ye sometime.”

 

(Your Name) blushed. “I-I, uh . . .”

 

Sean’s eyes widened when he saw the embarrassed look on her face. “No, it’s not like that!” he exclaimed. “I jus’ wanna be yer friend.”

 

(Your Name) sighed, “Oh, thank goodness. Otherwise, this-- this would’ve been awkward.”

 

“So, what do ye say?”

 

“Uh, sure. Do you have a pen and paper?”

 

“I have a Sharpie,” Sean mumbled, taking the aforementioned object out of his khaki shorts and handing it to (Your Name). “Ye can jus’ write it on my hand.”

 

“Alrighty then,” (Your Name) said, taking his hand and quickly scrawling her personal phone number onto the skin before retracting and giving him back his Sharpie. “A-And I promise it’s not a fake number.”

 

Sean raised an eyebrow, glancing at her from where he was looking over her writing. “I . . . wasn’t worried until ye said that.”

 

“I-I’m just saying that b-because I’m victim of . . . guys giving me fake phone numbers,” (Your Name) muttered, staring down at her sneakers shyly. “I just wanted to make sure you know that I’m not like them . . .”

 

“I already know that,” Sean said, laughing lightly. “Do ye want me to take ye to the nurse’s office?”

 

“Nah. This conversation really helped calm my nerves,” (Your Name) said with a soft smile. “I-I just needed to get out of that classroom. Speaking of which . . .” She looked back and sighed. “I _really_ don’t wanna go back in there.”

 

Sean grinned mischievously. “Then how’s about we skip until lunchtime?”

 

(Your Name) pursed her lips. “Isn’t that what the cool kids do?”

 

“Hey,” Sean said, linking his arm with hers, “we _are_ the cool kids.”

 

And that was the first time (First Name) (Last Name) broke the rules.

 

\-----

 

“So, what are ye gonna do once yer done with school?” Sean asked as he and (Your Name) sat down at lunch. The teachers had, thankfully, not noticed their absence, so they were off the hook.

 

“Um, I’m thinking about getting into animation, or something like that,” (Your Name) replied before taking a bite out of her burger. “Or maybe I’ll become a novelist. I like writing.”

 

“Oh, really? Ye’ll have ta let me read somethin’ o’ yers sometime.”

 

(Your Name) blushed. She was a little antsy when it came to sharing things she created with other people. Heck, she was a little antsy when it came to human contact. “Eh, I-I dunno,” she mumbled into her chocolate milk carton.

 

“Only if ye want to, that is,” Sean was quick to add.

 

“Eh,” was (Your Name)’s response. “W-What are you gonna go to college for?”

 

“I’m still a Junior, so I have a whole year to think about it,” Sean said with a shrug. “But I’ll probably get into somethin’ like . . . Hotel Management.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yea, yer dreams’re a tag bigger than mine,” Sean muttered, his cheeks aflame.

 

“N-No, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” (Your Name) exclaimed. “Hotel Management is actually a pretty decent career.”

 

Sean grinned. “Oh. If ye say so, lass.”

 

(Your Name) smiled proudly. “I do say so, _laddie_.”

 

“Oh-ho, look who’s gettin’ sassy!” Sean said with a heart laugh. “Someone’s comin’ outta their shell!”

 

(Your Name) shrugged a little bashfully. “Maybe just a little . . .” She took a sip of milk, gesturing to her green-haired friend. “What about you? You trying to make a fashion statement, or something?”

 

Sean frowned slightly, suddenly self-conscious as he looked down at his outfit. He was currently clad in a white dress shirt with a black tie, tan khaki shorts, knee-high socks, and his usual sneakers. Frankly, he did look a bit like SpongeBob. “What do ye mean?” he asked, lifting his gaze back up.

 

(Your Name) paled. “Oh, I-I didn’t mean anything by it,” she stammered. “I-I like your outfit. I was just joking.”

 

Sean smirked. “I know.”

 

(Your Name)’s face heated up instantly. She leaned forward and shoved Sean lightly, huffing, “Are you making fun of me?”

 

Sean smiled genuinely. “Isn’t that what friends do?”

 

(Your Name) shrugged, sitting back in her seat. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

 

“Are we just sad, lonely humans?” Sean asked, though he was still smiling away.

 

(Your Name) laughed, “Yeah, I think we are.”

 

Sean’s grin widened, if it even be possible, as he grabbed his spork and started singing into it, “ _Let’s be alone together!_ ”

 

Slightly shyer than him, (Your Name) joined in, “ _We can stay young forever!_ ”

 

Then together: “ _Screamin’ at the top of our lungs!_ ”

 

The two then fell into a laughing fit that didn’t go unnoticed by the students at their surrounding tables. They didn’t stare for long, or stop talking to find out what they were doing. Nope, they just went on with their days as the two little dorks laughed their organs out.

 

“Oh, geez, stop,” (Your Name) wheezed, holding her stomach. “I’m gonna puke!”

 

Sean laughed louder, “AHAHAHA! ME TOO!” He was honestly _really_ loud; probably the loudest person in the entire world.

 

(Your Name) snickered, leaning forward to shush him. “Sean, c-calm down. You’re drawing attention to us.”

 

“S-SORRY!”

 

“You’re still yelling.”

 

Sean lowered his voice to just above a whisper, “Sorry.”  

 

(Your Name) uttered another small laugh before it slowly died down. She took another bite from her burger, feeling a sort of swell in her heart. When she looked up again, her gaze fell upon Mark’s table. He was sitting with his friends-- The Cool Patrol --Danny, Matt, and Ryan. They were laughing, cracking jokes, having a good old time. It made (Your Name) feel sad, for some reason. Sean must have picked up on her sudden drop in mood, because he asked if she was okay.

 

“Um. Yeah, I’m fine,” (Your Name) said, waving it off. “Just thinking.”

 

“Is it something about Maerk?” Sean asked.

 

(Your Name) briefly giggled at his pronunciation of Mark’s name, but her smile fell again. “Kind of,” she admitted.

 

“Is he try’na get into yer head about all that ‘I can make ye cool’ nonsense?” Sean inquired. “”Cause I let Danny help me last year, and all that did was get me a black eye . . .”

 

“Really?” (Your Name) said, surprised. “Don’t their clients usually walk away happy and . . . well, cool?”

 

“Usually,” Sean muttered. “Guess I’m unhelpable.”

 

(Your Name) laughed lightly. “Guess so, Jackaboy.”

 

Sean’s eyes lit up. “I like that nickname,” he said. “Can ye call me that forever?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“YAY!”

 

(Your Name) smiled, and she didn’t let herself look at Mark or his friends for the rest of the lunch period. She could deal with that drama later. Right now, her Jackaboy needed some company.

 

\-----

 

The rest of the school day went by smoothly. She went to her other classes with complete focus, and not once did her mind slip back to Mark or ‘the incident’. In fact, her Spanish teacher even let her go to the library so she could finish her Honors English quiz. With no stress or distractions, she completed it in no time and was even able to check a couple books out. Now, there she was. Sitting on the bus, reading a copy of _No. 7_ as she waited for all of her fellow students to board.

 

(Your Name) sighed as the wind blew through the open window, and she allowed it to soothe her. It was a nice day outside, and she was happy for that. Maybe she’d go for a walk when she got home.

 

Soon, all of the students were on the bus, save for Mark, who was seemingly running late. (Your Name) couldn’t help but notice that two middle-schoolers had stolen his seat, and realized that hers was the only open one left. And she knew what that meant. Mark would have to sit with her.

 

(Your Name)’s pulse quickened slightly as the man in question boarded the bus. His gaze instantly fell upon his usual spot, and he seemed to deflate almost when he saw it was occupied. (Your Name) scooted over to the left a bit more, as to give him more space to sit, because she already knew it was inevitable, and she didn’t want to face him just yet and say he could share the seat with her. Obviously getting the memo, the fire-haired male sat beside her with a small _thump_ , and the ride began in awkward silence.

 

(Your Name) blushed lightly as she turned the page in her book, for her arm just barely grazed Mark’s. His leather jacket was cold against her heated skin, but it wasn’t enough to cool her down. A few seconds later, she uttered a sigh and turned the page again, having to rub her arm against his once more. Reading one last page, she decided to stop for the time being, as to not make Mark or herself uncomfortable.

 

She turned to gaze out the window, and saw in the reflection that Mark was doing the same. She sighed once more, telling herself that it was time to face him. “He-ey, Mark?” She mentally facepalmed at the shakiness of her voice, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

 

Mark looked at her, hesitant. “Yeah?”

 

“C-Can we talk . . .?”

 

He looked out the window again before saying, “Not here.”

 

“Then--”

 

“I’ll get off the bus at your place,” he said, meeting her gaze again. “Is that good with you?”

 

(Your Name)’s cheeks were aflame once more. She gulped, “O-Of course. I-I was g-gonna go on a walk, anyway. I-It’s such a nice day.” (Your Name) couldn’t help but cringe at the way her voice cracked and fluctuated at the end of her sentence.

 

“Yeah, it’s nice out,” Mark agreed.

 

The two then rode in slightly-less-uncomfortable-but-still-awkward-nonetheless silence. That is, until the bus pulled up at her stop, and they were forced to get off. The driver hadn’t questioned anything, thankfully, and the two stood still for a moment as they watched the vehicle drive off.

 

Mark was the first to speak, his fists jammed in the pockets of his jacket. “Are your parents gonna be okay with you being late?”

 

“I-I’ll just send my mom a quick message,” (Your Name) mumbled in reply as she pulled out her phone. She sent her mom a text:

 

**Hey, Ma. I’m gonna go for a quick walk.**

**Want me to stop by the post office?**

 

Her mom replied a moment later:

 

**Yes, please. Thank you sweetie.**

**Don’t stay out too late, and be careful.**

**I love u :) xoxoxo**

 

**Okay. Love u 2, mom. Xoxoxo**

 

Mark kicked the sidewalk absentmindedly with a raised brow. “So, what’d she say?”

 

(Your Name) tucked her phone into her pocket and started walking, Mark following close beside her. “She’s cool with it,” she replied nonchalantly. “Just said I can’t stay out too late, and she wants me to drop by the post office.”

 

“Then, we’ll walk there, I guess,” Mark said. “It’s right by my apartment, actually. If this . . . ‘talk’ of ours extends a little longer than our walk, then we can hang out there for a bit.”

 

(Your Name) blushed at the idea of being inside of a guy’s home. Alone. Just talking casually. Maybe sitting on his bed. And then-- She quickly shook her head, as if it would get rid of the thoughts that were absorbing her mind. “Uh, y-yeah, sounds good,” she stammered.

 

“You wanna start, or--?”

 

“I’m _really_ sorry,” (Your Name) blurted before giving Mark a chance to finish what he was saying. “I-I lied about where I get off because I was r-really nervous. I barely talk to p-people like, ever! You were kind of overwhelming me. And then the bus just j-jolted, and-- I didn’t mean to-- It was an accident! I would never-- Ugh! I’m just so . . . I’m s-so embarrassed.” She quickly buried her face in her hands to cover up the blush that was overtaking her again. “I-I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It’s plagued me. A-And you’ve been avoiding me all day, so I thought--”

 

“Wait, what?” Mark interjected, sounding genuinely confused. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

 

(Your Name) lowered her hands slowly, equally confused. “W-What? You haven’t?” she muttered. “But, this morning, you wouldn’t even look at me.” Mark grimaced. “And when you came into my class to get your friend’s notebook, you just ran off without saying anything else.”

 

“Well, from my perspective, it kind of seemed like _you_ were avoiding _me_.”

 

(Your Name) froze suddenly, causing Mark to almost trip over himself. “R-Really?”

 

“Yeah,” Mark said, straightening himself up. “You ran off the bus super fast, and you kept quickly hiding away whenever I’d look at you.”

 

“Well, crap. I guess we’ve both been kind of avoiding each other, huh?”

 

“Seems like it.”

 

“Okay, well . . . h-how about we start over?” (Your Name) suggested, facing Mark. Her cheeks lit up again when she did so, but she tried not to focus on that as she held out her shaky hand for a greeting. “M-My name’s (First Name) (Last Name). It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

Mark raised an eyebrow, but went along with it as he accepted her handshake. “Mark Fischbach. But you can call me the man of your dreams.”

 

(Your Name)’s eyes went wide as she recoiled, and the blush on her cheeks spread to her ears. “H-Hey!”

 

Mark’s laughter boomed as he keeled over, gripping his knees for balance. “The-- The look on your face i-is p-priceless!” he wheezed.

 

“That’s not fair at all . . .”

 

“That’s how I _roll_!” Mark beamed, thrusting his fist into the air. (Your Name) giggled at his antics, and he smiled down at her. “How about we walk to the post office together? I need to check my mail anyways.”

 

(Your Name) smiled with a small sigh-- “Sure.” --and the two went on their way, talking about the most random of topics. Not that (Your Name) could complain, though. She was getting pretty good at socializing.

 

\-----


	5. A Walk

(Your Name) uttered a contented sigh as she absentmindedly picked at her macaroni and cheese. She couldn’t help it as she replayed her time with Mark over in her head:

 

_“So, what do you do with your free time?” Mark asked, hands tucked nonchalantly in the pockets of his jacket while the two walked. “I know it’s a pretty generic question. You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”_

 

_“N-No, it’s fine. I like to draw,” (Your Name) admitted sheepishly, rubbing her bare arms. “I write a little, too.”_

 

_“That’s cool,” Mark commented._

 

_“You?”_

 

_Mark jolted slightly, seemingly surprised by the question, but he kept his cool. “Ah, nothing much,” he replied dismissively. He seemed to be hiding something, but (Your Name) wasn’t about to go prying. “I usually just hang out with the guys. Stuff like that.”_

 

_“Oh, well that’s--”_

 

_“Wait.” Mark stopped suddenly, holding his hand up as he gazed at something in the distance._

 

_“W-What is it?” (Your Name) asked, her pulse quickening._

 

_“Nothing to worry about,” Mark assured her, moving to stroll across the street. “Just stay there! I’m gonna grab something from the store! I won’t be long!”_

 

_(Your Name) sent a quick thumbs up and stood still. Waiting._

 

 _Mark returned a few minutes later, holding a blue bottle of pop in each hand, a grin adorning his stubbly face. He looked awfully old for a high-schooler, even if he_ was _a Senior. “I didn’t realize we were passing by that store,” he said, jerking his thumb back to the building he had just run out of. “I like to buy myself a pop whenever I pass by.” He held one out to (Your Name). “I got you one.”_

 

_“O-Oh, thanks,” (Your Name) mumbled, accepting the drink as they started walking again. “Y-You didn’t have to. I-I can pay you ba--”_

 

_“No,” Mark said sternly. “It’s on me, kid.”_

 

 _(Your Name) opened her mouth to protest, but quickly closed it due to her shyness._ Dang it, when will I ever overcome this? _, she mentally cursed as she looked down at her bottle. She furrowed a brow, looking at Mark. “Uh, what exactly is this?” she asked._

 

_Mark raised an eyebrow as he took a swig of his pop. “What do you mean?”_

 

_“What is it? What type of drink?”_

 

_“It’s pop,” Mark said incredulously. “Haven’t you ever had pop before?”_

 

_“My mom doesn’t buy it for the house,” (Your Name) said under her breath, cheeks aflame with embarrassment._

 

_“You’re hopeless,” Mark sighed, taking the bottle from (Your Name)’s grasp and opening it before lifting it up to her mouth._

 

_Startled, (Your Name) grabbed the bottle and quickly took a sip of the substance inside, her tongue tingling as her senses became overwhelmed. “Crap. This is so good!” she exclaimed, tilting her head back to get more of the drink into her system._

 

_“You’re too much, kid,” Mark said with a deep chuckle._

 

_(Your Name) slowly pulled the bottle away from her mouth, her breath shallow as she tried to decided whether or not she liked his nickname for her. “W-What?”_

 

_Mark shook his head. “Nothing,” he said bemusedly. “What grade are you in, if you don’t mind me asking?”_

 

_“I-I’m a Sophomore,” (Your Name) mumbled, taking a small sip of her pop, still trying to get over the addicting, sugary taste._

 

_“Ah, I remember tenth grade,” Mark hummed as he lifted his own bottle to his lips again. (Your Name) watched the action for a moment, though she quickly averted her eyes when he caught her staring. “Wild year for me. Danny and I threw some crazy-ass parties. Even the older kids were talkin’ about ‘em for days.”_

 

_“What are parties like?” (Your Name) asked out of pure curiosity._

 

_Mark paused for a moment, thinking. He turned to her again, saying, “I’ll have to take you to one sometime.”_

 

_(Your Name) shrugged, looking away to hide her burning cheeks. “Eh, I don’t know.”_

 

_“Hey, I’m not gonna pressure you, or anything,” Mark said, his tone laced with some sort of amusement. Perhaps he was getting a kick out (Your Name)’s awkwardness . . . “But I think it’d be an interesting sight, you letting loose at a party.”_

 

_(Your Name) shrugged again, more limp this time around, and her voice never escaped from her throat._

 

_Mark simply chuckled, taking another swig of his pop. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”_

  
 

“(Nickname)?”

 

(Your Name) jumped in her seat, her gaze falling upon the worried look on her mother’s face. She casually went back to picking at her dinner, acting like she hadn’t just been scared out of her wits. “What’s up?”

 

“Are you okay?” her mom asked. “You haven’t touched your macaroni and cheese. It’s gonna get cold.”

 

“Oh. Yeah. I’m fine,” (Your Name) said, waving her hand dismissively. “I was just lost in thought, I guess.”

 

“Ah.” Her mother smiled. “How’d it go with that guy?”

 

(Your Name) uttered yet another contented sigh. “We made amends,” she stated happily. “I wouldn’t call us friends . . . but we’re definitely not enemies.”

 

“Well, I mean, he took you for a walk, didn’t he?”

 

(Your Name)’s eyes widened. “H-How did you--?”

 

“(Your Name),” her mother said with a slight smirk, “I’m your mom. I see everything.” She leaned forward in her seat, grinning widely, as if she were waiting for some form of juicy gossip. “So, what happened?”

 

(Your Name) blushed slightly, finally taking a bite from her dinner before speaking: “Well, he suggested we go on a walk to talk about . . . the embarrassing thing that happening. And, well, we did, and we decided to just start from the beginning. So, we’re cool now, and stuff . . .

We then walked to the post office together, had some casual banter, and I walked him back to his apartment, because it was right by there, and--”

 

“Isn’t it usually the guy that walks the girl home?” her mother asked with a quirked brow.

 

“I-I mean, he offered to, out of politeness, b-but . . .”

 

“You shot him down?”

 

“Geez, don’t say it like that, Ma,” (Your Name) mumbled into a forkful of macaroni. “He’s too old for me, anyways.”

 

“Well, that’s a shame. Glad to hear you two made amends, though.”

 

(Your Name) smiled. “Yeah. Me too.”

\-----


	6. Sleep

_Buzz! Buzz!_

 

(Your Name)’s brow furrowed as she turned over in bed, lazily reaching up to grab her phone off the nightstand. She turned it on and squinted in the sudden light. It was ten after eleven, and she had two new messages from an unknown number:

 

**Heya! Did I wake you?**

**This is Sean by the way**

 

She sighed and sat up, quickly turning down the brightness as she scratched her head and sent a reply:

 

**Hi. And yes you did wake me**

**Is something wrong?**

 

**I just couldn’t fall asleep**

**You can go back to bed tho**

 

**No, it’s fine**

**Do you want to talk about it?**

 

**Oh, nothing’s wrong. Just couldn’t sleep^^**

**Wanted to talk to you, ig**

 

**Oh, alright :P**

 

They spent the next hour or so messaging back and forth, asking random questions, getting to know each other. (Your Name) started to yawn, but didn’t have it in her to tell Sean that she had to go. So, she kept on, even as one o’clock rolled around.

 

**So, how’s everything between you and Mark??**

 

(Your Name) blinked, hard. She was slightly out of it, and wasn’t sure if she was reading it right.

 

**What do you mean?**

 

It took him longer to reply this time.

 

**You were worrying over something at lunchtime**

**It was about him**

 

**Oh.**

**Yeah, we’re cool now**

 

**You’re cool???**

 

**Yep**

 

**All right. Well, I’ll let you get to sleep then**

**Sorry I kept you up so late, I didn’t realize**

**the time :/**

 

**It’s ok**

**I’ll see you later, Jackaboy :D**

 

**You too (Nickname) :D**

 

**Bye**

 

(Your Name) switched off her phone and placed it back on the nightstand, rolling her shoulders before collapsing under her covers. Within an instant, she was fast asleep.

 

\-----

 

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_

 

(Your Name) rolled over, mumbling something incoherent that even she didn’t understand. She pulled the covers closer to herself, drowning out whatever was making that annoying sound.

 

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

 

“(Nickname), are you up!?” her mother called through the door.

 

“Yeah!” (Your Name) responded, half-awake. She switched off her alarm clock, keeping her eyes shut. “Five more minutes . . .” She stayed like that for a while, curled up in a cacoon of warmth, and she only climbed out of bed when she had to. Of course, she groaned all the while, dragging her feet as she walked over to her closet. She grabbed some jeans, then threw on the first shirt her hand touched. She then put on her sneakers and slowly made her way downstairs.

 

“You’re late this morning,” her mother commented, watching her closely.

 

“Yeah,” was all (Your Name) said before she grabbed her bag and left the house. She stopped at the end of the driveway, looking around with half-lidded eyes. She stifled a yawn and stretched her limbs, fighting the urge to fall asleep then and there. The sound of the bus pulling up at her feet was what snapped her out of it.

 

She was slightly dazed as she climbed on, just muttering some random jibber jabber in response to the bus driver’s usual ‘morning’. She slunk into the back and practically stumbled into her seat. She noticed that the two middle-schoolers were sitting in Mark’s spot once again, but she couldn’t really focus on much of anything at the moment. She left some space for him and rested her head against the seat in front of her, closing her eyes.

 

Not too long from then, she felt the area beside her dip down and someone’s arm brush against her own. She discovered it was Mark when his deep voice rang out- “Hey, kid.” He paused for a moment. “You doin’ alright there?”

 

“Tired,” (Your Name) mumbled in response.

 

“Ah,” Mark hummed, as if he understood how she felt. She didn’t doubt it; he was known to be a bit of a night owl. He was always out partying, or spending nights at Moonlight Rollerway with the rest of the gang. (Your Name) couldn’t help but wonder how he managed it all. “You need something to help you wake up?”

 

(Your Name) sat up, looking at him. She observed him for a moment. He was wearing his usual aviators, his leather jacket, the biker gloves. The only difference was that he had a black shirt on instead of his typical white one. Another thing she noticed was that his firey-orange hair was fluffier, messier than usual. And then she realized she was staring, which was rude, and quickly answered the question-- well, more like, asked a question of her own. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice low and slightly husky from a lack of sleep.

 

Mark’s eyebrows seemed to shoot up when he heard her speak, and he looked down for a minute before saying, “I’ll buy you a pop when we get to the high school. It might help you stay awake.”

 

“Oh. No, I can’t let you do that,” (Your Name) murmured through a yawn. Her eyes fluttered shut for a split second before she rapidly blinked them open again. “I’m fine, and I’d feel bad if you spent more money on me.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Mark said, shrugging lazily before re-adjusting himself in his spot so that his hands rested on the back of his head, elbows bent in ways (Your Name) didn’t even think were possible. He was pretty flexible, and seemed to be a natural contortionist. It was frightening, yet intriguing.

 

“Yeah,” (Your Name) responded, the single word slowly rolling off her tongue with a slurred drawl. She face-planted the seat in front of her, letting out a small grunt.

 

“You don’t look too hot,” Mark commented.

 

“Gee, thanks.”

 

“But I like this side of you,” Mark chuckled, and (Your Name) lifted her head curiously to find his hand rested against his cheek as he watched her closely, a small smile on his face. “You’re less, for a lack of better words, ‘awkward’. Sassy, kind of, and you can actually get words out without sputtering like an old car engine.”

 

(Your Name) blushed, self-consciously rubbing her arms. “I-I, um.”

 

Mark sighed, sitting back in his spot. “Nevermind . . . . I spoke too soon, it seems.”

 

“Sorry,” (Your Name) mumbled.

 

Mark laughed again, twisting around to face her. “You don’t have to apologize, kid.”

 

“Sorr--”

 

Mark placed a finger to her lips, and the leather of his gloves were cold. (Your Name) shivered at the contact, yet her face could probably be mistaken for the sun. “No,” he said. “I said no apologizing. Did you not hear me say that?”

 

(Your Name) snickered lightly, albeit sleepily. “Right, right. I heard you.”

 

Mark raised an eyebrow as he drew his hand back. “Yeah, you need to sleep more,” he said.

 

(Your Name) yawned for the umpteenth time and stretched her arms, groaning as her bones cracked. “My friend Sean made me stay up all night to message him because he couldn’t fall asleep,” she explained.

 

Mark rubbed his chin, his brows furrowed as he seemed deep in thought. “Sean . . .” he said beneath his breath. “Oh, you mean Jack?”

 

“Yeah. But I call him Sean.”

 

“Ah. Well, it’s cool you guys are friends,” Mark said. “We actually met about a year ago; I’d like to think we get along well.”

 

A few comments built up in (Your Name)’s head, but she was too exhausted to voice them at the moment. Maybe she’d bring them up later. Maybe they’d fade amongst a wayward wind, whisked away  with the golden leaves of autumn, never to be seen again . . . .

 

Or . . . something like that.

 

“Kid? You okay?” Mark asked. (Your Name) had apparently zoned out, too focused on the thoughts consuming her mind.

 

“Uh. Yeah,” (Your Name) replied after a moment. Yeah, she certainly wasn’t all there, and Mark could tell.

 

“C’mere,” he said, gently placing a hand on her head and placing it in his lap. “Get some rest. We still have a little bit until we get to school.”

 

(Your Name) didn’t protest. The idea to argue with him hadn’t even crossed her mind as she started drifting. Floating. Falling. Deep. Deep, into a much-needed sleep . . .

 

\-----


	7. Mark's Insufferable Witty Charm

(Your Name) snuggled into the object, a small hum resonating from her chest. It wasn’t very cozy, yet it wasn’t necessarily  _uncomfortable_ , either. She’d only been ‘asleep’ for about fifteen minutes; it was more like a power nap. However, she felt more energized than she had the first time she’d woken up, so that had to stand for something. Mumbling a few words beneath her breath, she blinked a few times until her eyes opened completely. She could see the gray, dull hue of a leather-cushioned bus seat. She decided to sit up, and accidentally bumped into Mark while doing so.

 

Mark’s aviators fell off, and he scrambled to catch them. He managed to do so, and (Your Name) found herself marveling at his chestnut-brown eyes once again. He paused as he moved to put the glasses back on, a confused look crossing over his features. “What is it?” he asked the girl with disheveled (Hair Color) hair. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

She wanted to admit that she absolutely adored his beautiful eyes, yet her shy nature kept her from doing so. Thoughts reverberated off the inner walls of her mind.  _He’ll think I’m weird; That’s a really creepy thing to tell someone; Don’t ruin this; You’ll flub it, you nitwit; Just say something; He’s waiting._

 

(Your Name) scratched the back of her head as she racked her brain for an excuse. “Uh . . . you have something on your face?” she tried, and it came out as more of question than anything else.

 

Mark let his hands rest in his lap, brown eyes glowing with an unknown emotion. “Where is it?” he asked, his tone smooth as ever, like chocolate fondue.

 

“Um, right there,” (Your Name) muttered, placing a hand on his cheek and acting like she was wiping something off. “There! I-It’s gone now.”

 

Mark raised an eyebrow, and it looked even better with his aviators off. He placed a hand over (Your Name)’s before she could draw back, and the way he leaned forward ever-so-slightly made her stomach do a somersault. “What was it?” he asked innocently, like he wasn’t hotter than the sun itself.

 

“U-Uh, o-one of those-- those f-fuzz b-ball things? Y-You know?” (Your Name) stammered, unintentionally gulping at his proximity. He probably didn’t even realize how close he was, but hormones are hormones, and they were tormenting (Your Name) to death. Why did she always get like this whenever guys talked to her?

 

Mark nodded. “Ah, I get ya,” he said. “Thanks.”

 

“Y-Y-Yeah.”

 

Mark pulled back and placed his aviators on the bridge of his nose before making double finger pistols towards (Your Name). “Eyyyy,” he said, smirking lazily.

 

She looked at him with a raised brow. ”What… what was that?” she asked.

He shrugged, and (Your Name) could’ve sworn she saw him blush before he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck in what she could only assume was sheer awkwardness. “Eh, I dunno . . .”

 

(Your Name) smiled. “Ha-ha, okay. Whatever you say.”

 

Mark puffed his cheeks out. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

(Your Name) shook her head with a small laugh. “Oh, nothing . . .”

 

Mark turned to face her entirely. “But you’re laughing, so it can’t be  _nothing_.”

 

(Your Name) laughed again. “That was just . . . really awkward of you.”

 

Mark crossed his arms over his chest with a  _hmph!_ , glaring at the seat in front of them.

 

“You’re so adorable . . .” (Your Name) snickered. She placed a hand over her mouth swiftly as Mark’s eyebrows shot up, and his face went from slightly-pink to deep-red.

 

“W-What?”

 

(Your Name) coughed into her fist and looked out the window, cheeks burning with abashment. “Eh, um, n-nothing.”

 

“That didn’t sound like nothing, kid.”

 

“It’s just, uh . . . not important,” (Your Name) murmured.

 

“If you say so.”

 

“I do. I do say so.”

 

“You’re an odd one,” Mark said.

 

“Am not . . .”

 

“ _If you say so_.”

 

(Your Name) rolled her eyes. “You are . . . vapid.”

 

Mark frowned. “I have no idea what that means.”

 

“And slow-witted, it would seem.”

 

“Since when did you say smart things? I don’t like this.”

 

“Well, this is my cue. I’ll be off,” (Your Name) said tiredly as the bus screeched to a halt in front of the school.

 

“I still owe you a pop,” Mark murmured, following the female closely while they walked off the bus. “Also, your words make me feel sad.”

 

“I’d stop right there, hot shot,” (Your Name) said, making Mark’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wouldn’t wanna drop that ‘cool kid’ act, would you?”

 

“Uh.”

 

(Your Name) grimaced, her shoulders slumping. “Oh geez. I’m so sorry,” she said. “I get like this when I’m tired.”

 

“Oh. Right.”

 

She rubbed her eyes with a tired groan. “You said something about pop?”

 

“Yeah . . . I owe you one? To help you stay awake?” Mark said, confused, as they entered the building.

 

“Right. Thanks.”

 

“You’re really strange, kid.”

 

“And your witty charm is insufferable.”

 

“Thank . . . you?”

 

\-----


	8. Flames

It was evening. (Your Name) had been studying for a big test when a rock crashed through her window, followed by a loud string of curses. She slowly stood up and walked over to her window, making sure to step around the glass, gazing down at her intruder. She was surprised to see Mark Fischbach gazing up at her with his hands tangled in his firey hair.

 

  
“Mark? What the heck, man?”

 

  
“I was trying to get your attention,” Mark explained. “I saw it in a movie once?”

 

“What are you watching, eighties movies?” (Your Name) teased with a small smile. “You could just knock, you know. I would’ve been able to hear you.”

 

  
“Yeah, I, uh . . . Can I come up?”

 

  
“Well, you already broke my window. How could I refuse?”

 

  
“Ha-ha, you’re so funny,” Mark said, and she could imagine him rolling his deep-brown eyes beneath those aviators of his.

 

  
“The door’s unlocked, by the way.”

 

  
“Okay!” Mark shouted. She watched him move out of sight, and he was in her room within  
minutes. “You live here alone?”

 

  
“No. My mom’s just at work,” (Your Name) replied, causing Mark to pale slightly. “Don’t worry. She won’t be back until late.”

 

  
“Oh, okay,” Mark breathed.

 

  
“So, why exactly are you here?”

 

  
“Just wanted to hang out. Is that okay?” Mark asked.

 

  
(Your Name) squinted. “What?”

 

  
“I said--”

 

  
“I heard what you said, Mark. I’m just confused,” (Your Name) said, resting her palm against her cheek. “Why would you wanna hang out with me, of all people? Why not Danny, or Matt?”

 

  
“They’re being assholes,” Mark grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “And Ryan’s sick, so. . ."

 

  
“Ah.” (Your Name) looked down at her socked feet for a moment before meeting Mark’s gaze (or what she thought was his gaze; she couldn’t really tell) again. “I should, uh, probably clean up the mess you made.”

 

  
“Nonsense,” Mark huffed, quickly scooping (Your Name) up bridal-style before she could  
protest.

 

  
“Mark!” the female exclaimed through an airy laugh.

 

“My momma always told me ‘you make mess, you clean mess’,” he said, setting (Your Name)  
down on her bed. “What kind of vandal would I be if I didn’t fix your window?”

 

  
“Wait, what?”

 

  
“I’ll bring the boys in the next time your mom’s gone, and we’ll replace the broken glass. It’s the least I could do, considering you could have gotten hurt by that rock I threw at you.”

  
“You have a point,” (Your Name) muttered, watching as the Cool Patrol leader began picking up the glass shards. “Thanks, Mark.”

 

  
“But, of course.”

 

  
“You know . . . you’re a lot different from what people make you out to be.”

 

  
Mark paused, as he had been walking towards the door, facing the female with a raised brow.  
“What do people make me out to be . . .?”

 

  
“I don’t know, really. They just . . . I’ve heard people say you’re kind of unemotional, stoic, and . . . chill, I guess? But, you’re nothing like that,” (Your Name) explained. “Well, I mean, you’re chill but . . .”

 

  
“Should I . . . thank you?”

 

  
“Only if you feel you should.”

 

  
Mark smiled. “Well, thank you.”

 

  
After Mark had cleaned up the mess and fixed (Your Name)’s curtains to hide the damage, the two spent a while talking and just studying. It was pretty helpful, since Mark was a Junior so he had already learned everything she was currently being taught. Plus, he was a lot smarter than she’d initially thought.  
About two hours passed, and (Your Name) checked the time. Her eyes widened slightly as Mark stifled a yawn. “You should go,” she said.

 

  
“Hm, why?” Mark asked tiredly.

 

  
“My mom’s gonna be home soon.”

 

  
“Ah, okay,” Mark mumbled, stretching his arms out to work out the kinks. He let out a small  
groan when his back popped, and (Your Name) couldn’t help the fact that her face went red.

 

  
“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mark called out as he headed for the door.

 

(Your Name) watched him go, something welling up deep inside her. She went with her strange intuition and shouted, “Mark! Wait!”  
Mark halted abruptly, swiftly turning to face her. “Hm?”

  
“I’m tired of being . . . whatever I am!” (Your Name) exclaimed. “I want you to make me cool, like you.”

 

  
Mark opened his mouth but immediately closed it, looking very much like a fish. “Okay,” he said  
after a moment.

 

“R-Really?”

 

  
“Yeah-- It’s what I do,” Mark replied with a smirk before leaving out the door.

 

  
(Your Name) gazed after him with a sigh, then fell back onto her bed. “Okay.”

 

  
\-----

 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

 

  
(Your Name) shot up in bed. “AH! WHAT!”

 

  
“There’s, uh . . . there’s some boys here to see you?” her mother said, sounding unsure, from  
the other side of the door.

 

  
“Wha . . .? Who?” (Your Name) asked, rubbing her tired eyes.

 

  
“One’s named Mark. Do you know these boys, (Your Name)?”

 

  
“Oh! Yeah, let them in,” (Your Name) said, suddenly fully awake.

 

  
“If you say so . . . but I better not hear any ruckus. If I hear something out of place, I will whoop their a--”

 

  
“Just let them in, Mom.”

 

  
“Okay, sweetie.”

 

  
(Your Name) took a moment to wake up, eyes broadening when the door suddenly opened to  
reveal Mark, followed by Dan Avidan, Matt Watson, and Ryan Magee. “We have arrived,” Dan announced with a smooth grin.

 

(Your Name) couldn’t help but gawk. “Um . . .”

 

  
“Alright, let’s see what you got,” Dan hummed, moving over to look through (Your Name)’s  
closet. “Come on over here.”

 

  
“Erm . . .” She looked at Mark, who nodded reassuringly, before making her way over to the guy with the afro. “W-What’s going on?”

 

  
“Step One: Outfit Change,” Mark explained. “I told the guys about your request, and we decided to start immediately.”

 

  
“Wow, uh, okay.”

 

  
“Okay, take your shirt off,” Dan ordered.

 

  
(Your Name)’s eyes widened. “Uh, no!” she exclaimed, cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

 

  
“What? It’s no big deal,” Dan said with a slight eye roll, holding up a shirt to the female’s chest. "Yeah, this’ll look hot.”

 

  
“You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna take my shirt off in front of all of you guys,” (Your Name) hissed.

 

  
“Is that the issue? Fine. Guys, turn around, close your eyes. She needs to be comfortable,” Dan said with a dramatic sigh, his eyes fluttering shut as he handed (Your Name) the shirt and a pair of denim shorts.

 

  
(Your Name) watched Ryan and Matt turn around while Mark simply closed his eyes. She  
decided to face away from them, just in case they got testy. She quickly threw on the shirt and shorts Dan had picked out, feeling slightly self-conscious about her new look. “Okay. I’m done.”

 

  
All four guys looked at her, each nodding in silent agreement that (Your Name) looked pretty good. “Yep. We’re making progress,” Dan said. “But something’s missing . . .” He faced the leader of the group. “Mark, would you mind lending your jacket?”

 

  
“‘Course not, man,” Mark replied coolly, sliding out of his sweet leather jacket and throwing it  
onto (Your Name). He let out a low, seductive whistle that made her knees weak. “Nice.”

 

  
“Yeah, this’ll do for now. Put your shoes on, kid.”

 

  
(Your Name) was quick to do as she was told, feeling as if she was in the army, and that she  
would get in trouble if she were to disobey his orders. After tying the laces of her sneakers, Dan threw an arm around her shoulders and, with a broad grin, said, “Just stick with us, small fry, and you’ll be a cool kid in no time!”

 

  
\-----

 

  
Dan pulled into the high school in his red corvette. Mark sat up front with him, leaving (Your Name) crammed in the back with the other two hooligans. As Dan turned off the engine, he whispered something incoherent in Mark’s ear, to which the latter nodded and grinned softly.

 

  
“Alright, kid,” Dan started, resting his elbow on his seat as he faced the nervous female. “Just  
listen to whatever Mark tells ya, okay?”

 

  
(Your Name) nodded hesitantly. “O-Okay,” she said.  
Dan smiled lightly and gave a thumbs-up.

 

“Good,” he said before addressing Mark again. “Walk out with her. We’ll meet up with you later, bro.”

 

  
“Okay, man,” Mark responded, punching it in with the Senior before climbing out, motioning for (Your Name) to do the same. She scattered to follow closely behind him, and almost screamed when he suddenly took her hand in his. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “Remember what he said?”

 

  
“Y-Yeah. Listen to whatever you tell m-me,” (Your Name) stammered, hands becoming clammy as she tried to keep her cool. They stopped outside the high school, all eyes on them. “W-What are we doing?”

 

  
“Just listen,” Mark said, his voice hushed as he turned to face the younger female. “Move in  
closer.” (Your Name) gulped, but leaned in a bit. “Closer.” She moved so that the tips of their shoes were touching. “That’s right.” He grabbed her hand, feeling the tremors in her pulse, and rested his other hand on her hip, drawing her in.

 

  
“W-What is this . . .?” (Your Name) asked, her mind hazy as she tried to focus. What was going on? What was this for?

  
“Trust me, okay? This is part of Dan’s plan.  
Everyone will love you by the time we’re done with you.”

 

  
“You could’ve run this by me back at my place, Mark.”

 

  
“There wasn’t enough time,” Mark said with a sigh that (Your Name) could feel on her lips.  
“Please, just trust me. I wouldn’t do anything like this if I didn’t think it was necessary.”

 

“Or maybe you just wanna kiss me . . .” (Your Name) murmured, thinking she was too quiet to be heard, but Mark heard her loud and clear. They were merely inches apart, after all.

 

  
Mark brought her closer, chest to chest, breath to breath. “Okay, so you might be right,” he  
whispered in a low voice that made (Your Name) forget her own name. His shades slid down his nose, revealing those beautiful brown eyes. (Your Name) almost lost it then and there. “You ready?”

 

  
“Not really--”

 

  
BOOM. He pulled her in. (Your Name) hadn’t expected it, and she was unable to bite back an unsolicited moan. Mark chuckled into the kiss, making (Your Name) feel all types of crazy. She was unsure of what to do, seeing as this was her first kiss, but she remembered a few romance movies at that moment. So, perhaps, that was what compelled her to snake her hands up to the nape of Mark’s neck and run her hands through his mess of hair. He seemed to like it, too, because the kiss deepened by at least ten percent, and their need for oxygen only strengthened  
the high.

 

  
Mark groaned as he grabbed her by the shoulders, moving her away from himself to take in deep breaths of air. “Well, shit,” he said breathlessly, his eyes glazed over with a foreign look. “Holy fuck . . .”

 

  
(Your Name) rested her head against Mark’s chest, shuddering as she focused on evening out her breathing, but to no avail. She whimpered slightly, “Mark?”

 

  
Mark ran his own hands through his hair, worsening its disheveled look. “I think that sold ‘em,” he mumured. “Was that your first one?”

 

  
“Y-Yeah,” (Your Name) admitted sheepishly.

  
“Fucking liar . . .”

 

  
(Your Name) laughed lightly, taking a step back to give him some space.

 

"(Your Name)?" The female jumped the sound, her head whipping around to see none other than Sean. 

 

"Jack!" she exclaimed, unsure if his name had come out excited or petrified. "I, uh—" She faced Mark. "I have to go, if that's okay." 

 

Mark shrugged noncommittally, pushing up his aviators. "Yeah, that's fine," he said with a small chuckle. "The boys and I are gonna head over to the strip mall later, so don't be surprised if you get a message asking about the size of your bust." 

 

(Your Name) blushed at his words. "A-Ah, okay," she stuttered. "S-See ya." She watched as he did a mock salute before walking off.

 

"Okay, so.. what was that about?!" Sean screamed.

 

(Your Name) tensed, slowly facing him again. "W-What do you mean?" 

 

"Ye just made out with Maerk Fischbach," Sean whisper-yelled, hands on her shoulders. "That's a big fookin' deal!" 

 

(Your Name) shook her head. "No, it's not like that," she said.

 

"What? Not like. . . Why did he say. . .?" Sean's eyes widened. "Ye didn't." 

 

"I did." 

 

"Ye asked the Cool Patrol for help?" She nodded. Sean sighed before a smile settled across his features. "I'm sure it'll work with ye. Like I said, I'm just unfixable." 

 

"Jack—" 

 

"Sh, it's fine." 

 

"No, I was gonna. . . say you can let go of me now," (Your Name) said with a small laugh. 

 

Sean looked down at where his hands were still placed firmly on her shoulders, jumping back with a yelp, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "S-Sorry!" 

 

(Your Name) shook her head, punching him playfully on the arm. "You're such a dork.." 

 

Sean smiled before his eyes drifted to look at something behind her. His smile fell as he seemed spellbound.

 

(Your Name) furrowed a brow. "What is it?" she asked, beginning to turn around.

 

"Nothing!" Sean exclaimed, catching her by the wrist. She stared at his hand, abashed, while he dragged her forward. "Let's head inside before we're late for class." 

 

(Your Name) smiled up at him. "Yeah." 

 

Sean would never tell her, but Mark had been watching the whole exchange with a stern look on his face.

 

\-----


End file.
